


Wouldn't Have it Any Other Way

by lightbulbsarecool



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 01:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightbulbsarecool/pseuds/lightbulbsarecool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This may or may not have been inspired by this tumblr post: http://animehead.tumblr.com/post/60653204536/i-need-an-au-where-jake-is-a-first-or-second-grade.</p>
<p>Update: The verb tense shift errors were haunting my dreams.  Also, I figured out how to format so it doesn't look like a giant block of shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wouldn't Have it Any Other Way

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you think that this man is going to be the death of you. Well, you’re probably not going to actually die because of him. But you might come damn near close. 

You tap your pen idly at your desk as you stare out of the small window of your office, gazing across the street. When you had been assigned to the small room on the side of the building, you were actually kind of disappointed. You at least thought that your fancy college degree and general reputation as an overall genius would have gotten you a bigger office; maybe something with a door that didn’t make a ridiculous high-pitched screeching noise every time it was nudged, or a better view than a patch of asphalt, a field, and an elementary school playground. Now, you are definitely not disappointed with your working accommodations. In fact, you would go so far as to say that you are downright pleased with them. Because across that street in that deathtrap of a playground is the person you think is so ridiculously adorable you might die.

It occurs to you that this phrasing seems a little melodramatic. If you tried, you do not think you could give any less of a shit. 

The first time you noticed him was on a particularly stressful day at work. You had been told very vocally by your boss that your robotic designs were completely impractical for the customer’s demands, and may or may not have been sulking a little bit in your less than ergonomic desk chair. Suddenly, a flash of movement from across the street caught your eye. It was a second grade class, nothing out of the ordinary for an elementary school, but what they were doing made you want to burst out laughing. A tall, tanned man with black hair, wearing khakis, a dress shirt, and the most ridiculous adventurer hat you had ever seen in your life was leading around a troupe of seven year olds. They were marching along in a single-file line, more determined than you had ever seen people of their age to be. Occasionally, the man (who you presumed to be their teacher) would call the class to attention, at which point they would all look intently at him as he pointed out some tree or plant, and then they would continue on their way. 

It all had the air of an official adventure, something you would see on the Discovery Channel, with a strapping young lad leading the viewer around the dangerous flora and fauna of the rainforest. In Texas, however, it actually looked more like a teacher pointing at dead grass and the plants that were resourceful enough to live on basically zero water. Despite his obvious over enthusiasm, you found yourself intrigued by the young man leading around the second graders. He seemed so cheerful, so full of the joy of life, that you couldn’t help but smile when watching him wave his hands enthusiastically at a dead shrub. You silently hoped that he would be back the next day when he went back inside the school, leading his flock of children and counting to make sure nobody was left behind.

He was, indeed, back outside the next day, only instead of leading his class around the less-than-verdant forest, he was watching them as they partook in more normal recess activities. You smirked as he was challenged to a battle of four square by a few of his students, and had to hold back a chuckle when he actually started playing. He made a big show of letting the small brown-haired girl with pigtails get him out, completely missing the ball and sighing very dramatically. 

He played with the class for the entire recess period, and even gave one little boy a piggy back ride back inside. You checked your clock and realized that you had been completely spacing out and not working on your revised schematics for 30 minutes. Somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It took about two weeks of waiting for 11:30 for the teacher with black hair, glasses, and an affinity for khaki to bring out his class before you realize that you’ve got it bad for him. You sat up abruptly as you were watching a spirited game of double dutch. How was this even possible? You’d never even seen the guy up close. You’d never talked to him. You didn’t even know what his name was! But as you leaned forward to watch the gentle criss-crossing of the two jump ropes, you knew that you liked him. A lot. Probably more than you should. And you were actually kind of okay with that.

It was a long time before you decided you would actually do something about it. As you left the building early because you had finished all your work and figured you probably needed to catch up on some sleep, you realized that it was about the time the elementary school day was over. In a few minutes, you could walk over, after all the kids had gone to their buses and latchkey. You could go over there and just kind of... talk to him. This excited you, but it also gave you a weird kind of twisty feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t quite place. You decided to ignore that.

Eventually, the school bell rang, and all of the kids were safely on their ways home. Then, the very person you were hoping to see stepped out of the building, carrying a briefcase and looking generally busy. Your stomach did the weird twisty thing again, and you were just about to walk over to him when you decided that he probably had better things to do than talk to you. He looked so busy, with his official briefcase, and he probably had papers to grade or adventures to plan or something. But goddamn it, he was even more attractive up close. By this point, you felt like you were going to vomit. You got in your shitty car and drove back to your shitty apartment, and when you slept, you dreamt about the teacher with the adventurer’s hat.

Yet more weeks passed, and you had finally built up enough staunch resolve to talk to the man who seemed to make you smile even when your boss was screaming behind you about something or other that you had most definitely completely made worthless and made the company the laughing stock of the century or whatever else you had managed to screw up that day.

You had finally gotten enough done that you could leave early again, and this time you happened to be walking out at the same time as the teacher. Steeling yourself, you walked across the street, not giving your brain any time to talk you out of it. You were getting closer, and shit this was really going to happen now and-

“Hello, mate!” the teacher grinned at you. “Can I help you?”

Shit, he was the one to talk first! You were going to start out with something smooth, really sweep him off his feet. Oh, who were you kidding. You probably would have said something like-

“Sup.”

Wow. You really just did that. You were the smoothest of people. It was you. Thankfully, he laughed. Whatever gods there are must have been smiling on you that day.

“There really isn’t anything up with me! I was just going home to grade these worksheets. Never a dull moment, you know! Is there any particular reason you came over to chat?” he asked.

You fidgeted uncomfortably, but in the coolest way possible. You were so smooth, it was not even funny.

“I actually work in the office building across the street. I saw you, and you seemed nice, so I was wondering if, uh,”

Shit. You sounded like such a douchebag.

“Maybe you wanted to get coffee sometime?” you finally managed.

He looked momentarily surprised, but was quick to answer.

“I’d love to! You seem like an upstanding young fellow, especially since you’re working for that high tech company across the street! I do have one condition though.”

Your smile faltered a bit. 

“Hmm?” 

“I don’t actually know your name!”

You almost burst out laughing. Of course. That was you alright- attempt to ask out this guy you had been ogling for weeks, then forget to tell him your name.

“It’s Dirk. Dirk Strider,” you say, barely containing your chuckle. “That’s probably an important thing to know.”

“I suppose it is,” he smiled. “My name is Jake English, if you were wondering.”

“Pleased to meet you.” You stuck out your hand for a handshake, and were surprised when he grabbed your hand and started writing something on your palm. You gave him your most quizzical look.

“It’s my phone number,” he explained. “So that we can go for that coffee!”

You talked to him for a little bit longer, and then parted ways. The whole time, you had to fight with yourself to not have a huge grin on your face. As you left the school, you tried to refrain from fist pumping the air. You failed miserably.

Fast forward to today, and it is the day of your coffee date with the teacher who you have since found out is incredibly dorky, loves every (no, you really mean every) movie, and is full of interesting quirks and eccentricities that would seem out of place on anybody but him. He texts you saying that he’s waiting outside your office building, and when your stomach twists into knots again, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your name is Jake English, and you are waiting outside an office building to go out for coffee with the guy who you have secretly been watching for a while. Wow, that sounded really creepy. But he asked you to go! Anyway, he is really cute, with his bleach-blonde hair full of more hair product than is strictly necessary, and his ridiculous pointy shades (you think they have something to do with anime?). There is just something about him that is so interesting, the man always drawing out plans for something or other in his office by the window when you take your class out for recess. 

He comes out of the building and sees you standing by the door, when you link arms with him (shut up, Strider, you know you like it) and prepare to learn more about the enigmatic Dirk Strider. Sitting in the passenger seat of his car, you feel a happy wash come over you. If you had the chance to redo this moment, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
